Atom stood in the orchard and hated the size of the sun. The sun hung far overhead, warming the whole world, while Atom stood here on the ground, no bigger than the trees. That was the wrong place for light. Atom shone too, skin bright and hot, but only these few trees felt it. The gold apples caught the glow and threw it back. Atom wanted more. Atom wanted to grow huge, to be set in the sky, to warm every corner of the world below. But no one had shown Atom how to climb that high. So Atom searched. For days Atom walked, until the ground split open into a chamber where fire and ice met in one room. Flames climbed one wall. Ice coated the other. Between them ran a line where heat and cold fought and neither won. Atom pressed both hands to that line. The two forces poured into Atom's bright body. Atom felt full, too full, and light spilled off the skin in waves. Something answered. Where Atom's light struck the frozen wall, a shadow peeled loose. It stood up. It had Atom's shape, two arms, two legs, a round head. But it did not glow. It was black, and red fire burned at the top of its head, and its eyes shone red. Atom gasped. Atom raised a hand and the shadow raised a hand back. Atom stepped forward and it copied the step. It was made of Atom, but turned inside out. "I can make more," Atom said aloud. The idea landed hard. If Atom could not grow alone, then a whole crowd could carry the light. Atom pushed light at the ice again and again. More dark shapes tore free. Ten. Then twenty. They filled the cold half of the chamber, red eyes glowing, waiting. Then the first shadow spoke. "Negatron," it said, and touched its own chest. Its voice was low and dry. It looked at Atom's bright skin, then at the fire on the wall. Its red eyes narrowed. "You burn," it said. "We do not want to burn." Atom's stomach turned cold. "I made you to help me," Atom said. "To carry light into the sky." Negatron stepped toward the flames and the fire shrank away from it. "You made light," it said. "And light throws a shadow. We are the shadow." The others turned their red eyes on Atom. The fire on the wall dimmed. The chamber grew darker, and the dark did not come from the ice. It came from them. Atom backed toward the door. The creatures did not follow. They only watched, patient, filling the room Atom had opened. Atom had wanted a crowd to help lift the light. Instead Atom had made a crowd that wanted to put it out. Atom ran up into the orchard, where the gold apples still shone. But the shadows below now knew the way out.